


The Angel of Death

by Asauna



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-03
Updated: 2011-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-26 20:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asauna/pseuds/Asauna





	The Angel of Death

The nights in Venice were usually unforgiving, but they were only that much worse when the weather became dull. The skies had been crying for hours on end, taking the life away from the day that had previously passed, giving way to the dark and dangerous night. In this weather though, most people preferred to stay indoors, if they had a place to seek refuge. The tears of angels slid down upon the tiled rooftops, drenching the archers that were unfortunate enough to have been told to stay where they had been assigned, which also limited their vision of the world around.

Some were sparred in this dreary weather, while others were met with a grim fate handed to them by the Angel of Death, clad in white and red robes with the use of strip of beautifully-etched metal in the form of a blade. The dampened lips of the angel fell into a frown, trying to peer out from beneath his robes and take a view of his surroundings. He wasn't too far now from the man whose life was his, though he had yet to speak of such things. They were more sinful than that of taking the life of a guard during these times, and such feelings brought shame to his composure.

But for now, none of that mattered to him. The angel merely wanted to find a place to hide from the weather, for it was ruining the clothes that he was forever cursed to adorn upon his human body. Never again was he allowed the freedom to wear a simple tunic and trousers as every creature of his age did each day of their lives. If he were to do such a thing, he would be found, and the Angel may find himself in an unforgiving predicament.

His leather boots touched down with the wet roofs of the buildings that he used as his personal pathway, being careful with each movement, for without his heavenly wings, he would surely injure himself if he were to fall when in this weather. He uttered soft breaths of Italian curses beneath his breath, Italian and English being the two earthly languages he'd been instructed to speak during his years of life.

With arms held out to the side, he found that he had come to the edge of the building that he had been searching for, glancing around to make sure that a familiar wooden stand before him down below, taking sight of the Italian words, as well as the double-sided arrow that graced it's sign on the top of the small abandoned structure. No one wished to be out in this weather during the night, it seemed. Not even merchants. But who would buy from them anyway during this time?

And it was with one swift movement that he leapt and if one were to keep themselves from blinking, they might see the black wings that graced his back extend out, guiding him as he flipped in the air until he hit the bale of hay that sat in a cart down on the street below, abandoned by its owner that presumably forgot it there when the storm struck. And just as the wings had appeared, they disappeared, leaving nothing more but a feather in its wake that sat among the hay, mixed in with the dark yellow grain.

The angel peered around slowly before climbing out of the hay, turning to walk towards the building he'd only just leapt from. He wondered whether he should knock and wait, or allow himself into the home of the mortal that always sheltered him during these times. Surely the man knew he would make himself homely during the night. As he found his way into the alcove of the front of the building, he lowered his hood, revealing the face of a mortal man. This was his disguise, it seemed. It was so well formed that it caught the eye of many. It stole the heart of both woman and man and caused them to yearn for the perfection that he had been provided during his creation on the earth, which aided in the job he had been given.

He raised his ungloved fingers to knock upon the door, the tears of his brethren dripping from his body and to the cold ground below. His brown hair that was kept back with a ribbon that resembled the color that drained from those he performed his ritual upon seemed to have become tainted by the water as well, the cloth trying to uncurl and slip from his hair, though it had yet to happen.

But rather than wait, the angel reached down to the handle and pushed the wooden surface open himself, taking a few steps inside, shutting the entryway behind him once more. He parted his lips to call out for his companion, but quieted himself when he saw the man who was an artist for the human world hunched over at his desk, a calm expression upon his face. It seemed that he had fallen asleep during his work, candles around his workshop slowly dying out one by one as they ran out of food to provide the fire.

The angels eyes softened upon the sight before him, shaking his head to himself. "Idiota." He breathed with a small smile pulling at his lips, moving past the room that was filled with paintings, drawings and wooden structures that the male had built in his time here. He wandered through a kitchen as well and soon met a small staircase that brought him up to a second story where the artist usually slept, which had a normal bedroom, as well as a guest one which he often housed when staying here.

The angel walked into the secondary room and began to strip himself of his wet items, removing the metal armor, his vambraces and weapons. He then began to untie the red sash around his waist that helped to keep his robes upon his heavenly body, revealing that there were more beneath. A simple, off-white tunic sat upon his strong chest which seemed to have been slightly affected by the weather outside. He also wore brown pants that seemed to hide within his boots, and they too were merely dampened by the world around the building he'd sought refuge in. The angel of death sat on the edge of his bed and pried off his leather boots, setting them down on the edge of it, taking a slow glance around as he began to wonder what he should do. He couldn't allow the human downstairs to remain there for the rest of the night, could he..?

After another moment, he raised himself from the bedding that was usually offered to him, wandering around in his under-clothing that was not often seen by human eyes, unless he was enjoying the pleasures of one of the mortal women that graced the streets. But they never seemed to be good enough to ease him of his need. The angel, though divine in every way, felt as if he had been missing something. It may have been a piece of himself or an area of the life that he had been provided upon the earth.

He slowly wandered down through the kitchen and into the workshop once more, the smile returning to his lips at the sight of the mortal man. Whenever he was here, that yearning always disappeared. He felt as if he had everything he needed to do his job right, and that was another incentive as to why he came here any chance he could, rather than go hide away with an ally such as La Volpe or Paola, back in Firenze.

Slowly, the angel walked behind the dozing artist and graced his strong fingers upon the man's shoulders, spreading them upon the other's form. He opened his mouth once more to speak soft words to the sleeping human, though paused as he saw the few drawings he'd nodded off upon. They were merely sketches, but they were those of a divine creature. They were well-constructed images of the creature's face and body, revealing it nude from the waist up. One image may have caused the human to feel embarrassed, for the subject was almost nude in one image, except for a long piece of cloth that wrapped around his waist and between his legs as it sat in a chair, one appendage resting over one of the arms.

Of course, that divine creature was none other than himself.

He gave a soft chuckle to himself, unable to help but feel a little flattered that Leonardo spent his time drawing his human form, though he couldn't help but wonder what compelled the artist to draw such things. Pushing away this question, he gingerly squeezed the mortal's shoulders, leaning forward to rest his lips against the other's ear. "Leonardo, come. You cannot sleep down here." The angel spoke, his voice smooth and hushed. Such words were able to cause any man or woman to swoon, if he so willed it. It was just part of the charms he'd been given when cursed to this mortal form.

It took another moment of soft-nothings that were uttered by the angel to begin shaking the man from his sleep, a gentle groan passing the lips of the blonde man. At the simple sound, the immortal's lips pulled back into a smile once more, dropping one hand from the man's shoulder, the other sliding to the center of his back as he stood up properly. "Leonardo-" He chimed again, peering down to the man that was slowly piecing together that he had fallen asleep on his work at some point in the night, and now was being spoken to. But by whom?

The blue-eyed mortal turned to look at the angel that had allowed himself into the other's home, his jaw slacking faintly in surprise, light eyebrows arching upwards in confusion. "Ezio, when did you get here?" He asked, words rolling off of his tongue with his Italian accent. Though their native language was Italian, they would converse in English as practice almost, to be sure that they could not lose such an ability over their years.

The angel gave a soft chuckle to the artists' confusion, watching as the human began to slowly rise to his feet, pushing the chair back as he did. "Long enough. Come, you should sleep in a bed. Not upon doodles." He urged gently, watching as Leonardo turned to look down at the things he'd drawn before falling asleep. Tired blue eyes grew wide as embarrassment began to snap him back to reality, raising a hand to cover his cheek as he turned away from them, starting for the stairs. "Ah- Mi dispiace." He spoke, knowing that the other must have seen them.

"Do not worry, old friend." The angel laughed as he trailed after the other, his feet padding softly against the wooden floor beneath them. He found it rather amusing to see the man's cheeks begin to flush up as he began to think more and more about what he had drawn and what the other's reaction to them may have initially been. "I knew you would be coming, so I tried to stay up. I suppose that is where my mind drifted during my drawings." He spoke, the words all falling quickly from his mouth. He paused though, feeling the divine creature's fingers upon his back once more.

"Again, do not worry. It's fine, Leonardo." He assured gently, his voice warm and reassuring as he ran his fingers up and down the artists back as they maneuvered through the kitchen, retracting his hand as they hit the wooden staircase. "Lead the way." The angel spoke, bowing ever so faintly. He watched his friend ease his mental workings enough to earn a soft laugh, smiling down to the other after having taken the first two steps with ease. "Si, si. Come, let us find you room for you to dwell tonight." He spoke, gesturing with his hand for the angel to follow.

"Ezio, will you be here merely tonight, or longer?" The Italian artist questioned, revealing the forbidden name of the divine man that wandered along after him. Brown eyes ran along the back of the blonde's form as a soft nod of the head was provided though left unseen. "I will be here until the rain parts. It is hard to run across the rooftops in this weather. I do not think I have much to worry about until this rain leaves us though." The Angel of Death decided.

"Then let us hope it never passes." Leonardo teased softly, looking back to the other with a warm expression as he reached the second floor, stepping towards the two doors that were almost directly across from one another. "Well, then I suppose I will see you in the morning if you are still around?" Leonardo questioned as he stood at his doorway, pushing the wooden rectangle open before leaning against the mantle.

"I thought that we may converse for some time before that. If you wish to wait though, I will go off to bed and-" Ezio began until he was interrupted by the blonde who shook his head. "No, no- If you wish to speak, then come in." He urged gently and started into the bedroom, a hidden smile dancing upon his lips as he thought about what usually occurred at night within a bedroom. But no, the two of them were merely to talk. Ezio was not the same as he. The other wished for nothing more than the touch of a woman, not another man. But still, the painter could dream, couldn't he?

The angel followed the man, taking a glance around the bedroom that he had seen in the past a few times though had never slept within. Maybe tonight would be different though? After all- Leonardo was already tired. So if he were to fall asleep first, how could he object to the other nodding off within the bed as well? It seemed almost perfect. "Molto bene." Ezio spoke as he made his way to the bed and sat down, looking over to Leonardo who did almost the same. Though rather, the artist moved to slip away his own outer layers first, keeping his face away from the angel that sat upon his bed.

He removed his green tunic to reveal a simple white, button-up blouse beneath and a stripped himself of his boots. He left on his brown trousers, and removed his hat, setting all of his articles of discarded clothing and accessories upon a nearby dresser. All the while, they eyes of the angel had never left the man's form, taking in the sight of him beginning to strip, rather enjoying it. It was a shame that the artist had felt it needed to stop. Ezio looked off to the side when Leonardo turned around though, listening to the other wander over and slide to lay down on his side of the bed and resting on his stomach, turning his head to face his guest.

"So why are you in Venezia?" He asked lightly, his eyes taking in the sight of Ezio's calm feature's as the angel returned his eyes over to him. "Why, for many things. But one of them was to come visit you." He spoke, watching as Leonardo's expression shifted lightly. He almost seemed embarrassed that he was one of the reasons that Ezio had travelled out here. But then, he realized that it may have been more work related than a mere visit. "Why, do you have a codex page for me?" The artist asked, closing his eyes as a sort of sadness filled him, almost feeling let down that he hadn't been visited merely for the point of seeing an old friend. Of course, he hadn't let Ezio answer yet, had he?

"Unfortunately, no. I haven't had the time to keep out an eye for them. I've had a lot against me, recently. I wanted to visit you though, for I always seem to react better to things after I've had a moment or two with you." The man spoke, his words smooth and warm as he slowly reached out and rested his hand upon the other's blonde locks, brushing his fingers through them.

If one looked closely through the dark, they may have been able to see a soft shade of pink touch upon Leonardo's cheeks as he heard that fact, though he opened his eyes as he felt the other's hand upon his head. He knew Ezio did not often mind being affectionate with him, but this was something new. Never had he had the time where the assassin wished to be beside him in his bedroom or touch the top of his head like this. It almost made him think that it was an intimate act.

"Oh, well then… I am sorry I was not awake when you arrived. I have been unable to rest well the last few nights." He spoke lightly, peering up to the angel that still had his fingers within his hair. He closed his eyes as he relaxed, deciding that he would enjoy the pleasant sensation that came with being touched so simply. A soft smile tugged at his lips, though he paused a little as he felt the man beside him shift upon the bedding. Though when he opened his eyes again, he nearly jumped in surprise, for Ezio's face was lined with his own. "A-Ah, you scared me." Leonardo breathed and offered a soft laugh, turning slightly on the bedding and laying on his side so that he could properly face his friend.

"My apologies." The Angel of Death spoke, smiling slyly to the other though he paused, shaking his head. "There is more of a reason for my being here, Leonardo. I had hoped to speak with you concerning an issue of mine." He said, hesitance in his tone, his fingers slowly sliding down the artisans neck, allow his hand to trail to his shoulders, resting there. This was far more intimate than he had ever been with Leonardo, that being undeniable to anyone who may have had the chance to see them in the past.

The artist took a heavy gulp, his eyes trailing along the other's facial features through the dark. Another rush of heat brushed upon Leonardo's cheeks, darkening his pale skin with a stroke of red, which some would see upon the tip of his paintbrush. "A-And that might be?" He asked, merely reacting to the feeling that Ezio's touch brought him, closing his eyes a again and turning his head into his pillow faintly, feeling the angel's fingers slip down to the back of his neck. A rush rolled through him, causing an eye to open once more, peering to the deity beside him.

The brown-haired angel could feel the other's heart beginning to race beneath his touch, brows furrowing a little. In the dark, he was unable to tell if Leonardo was enjoying his touch, or if he were trying to get away. But if the artist had found himself uncomfortable with such things, he would have already pulled away, wouldn't he? With that thought in mind, the angelic figure shifted upon the bedding, taking a slow breath to draw in some courage.

His job was to take the souls of men who had wronged their own kind. It required him to fly across the human plane with grace and strength that most men did not possess. It entailed him to fight through most of his life after he had accepted the robes that sealed his fate. This angel had no fear when it came to this sort of thing- He was ready to take the humans down, one by one until his job was completed. But what he was about to do caused his fingers to tremble and a form of foreign nervousness to fill him. Was it because he knew what he was going to do was something against this time? It was a crime punishable by death, after all. If someone were to kill the Angel of Death, would there be someone there to collect his soul?

The angel moved to gently push Leonardo onto his back, crawling over the man, setting a hand on either side of his head. "Leonardo…" The male spoke, leaning over the blonde who seemed to grow rigid, lips parted though no words came out. "For some time I have wanted nothing more than to feel your hand within my own. I have wanted to hear you utter my name in ways that only females that I have toyed with have yet to speak. I want you with me during my adventures, though I know that cannot truly happen. But when I am apart from you, there is one thing I know for certain during these confusing times: That I am not whole." The angel spoke to the other below, closing his eyes as he rested his forehead upon the artists.

The blonde beneath listened to each word that slipped from Ezio's lips, drinking in the meaning beneath them. His heart seemed to skip a beat with each sentence that began and finished, tongue brushing against his own chapped, lower lip. He was unsure how to respond, for he had felt the same way, truthfully. He wished for nothing more than to hold Ezio close. I wanted to paint the man in ways that very few have ever seen. He wanted to witness expressions that could only ever be witnessed by a lover, whether it was one that came by during time in bed, or even just sitting with one another, gazing across the room at each other.

He had dreamed of this moment for quite some time now, having had grown feelings for Ezio after he helped ease him into the life he had been given upon accepting the robes that had been tossed at his feet. "Ezio…" Leonardo whispered, shaking his head weakly as he felt the man lean upon him. His eyes sharpened a little as he felt the man above begin to pull away, realizing that the other was going to draw back and this moment would be forever lost. But he couldn't allow such a thing to happen, could he? The angel above him had just confessed a love that was forbidden in their world, and who knew if this moment would ever happen again?

So without a second thought or hesitation, the man below did something he never thought himself capable of. He reached his arms around Ezio's neck, hugging the angel close to his form, pressing his lips against the other's. A rush rolled through the artist, this being something he'd only imagined would ever happen. Ezio was able to have any woman that he so pleased. And yet, here he was, confessing the truth about his visit. He wondered what it was that made him so special to Ezio. There were so many other people around, so why was it that he was able to the one hearing those magnificent words..?

It was the angel's turn to be the one caught by surprise, brown orbs growing wide as he felt the man grab onto him and press such warm, soft lips against his own. Truthfully, he had expected Leonardo to deny having feelings in return. Granted, he didn't think the artist would try and push him away for it just wasn't in his nature. But he certainly didn't think that this would be the outcome of his confession. Even if Leonardo wasn't head-over-heels for him in return, he had at least gotten the chance to get this issue off of his chest. But hey, if Leonardo truly did return these feelings, then what more did the angel have to fear? He was truly without vulnerability, now…

Ezio returned the kiss, shifting weakly upon the other, though pulled away from the artist slowly. The kiss hadn't been aggressive or overly-needy, as if the two of them have been deprived of intimate relations for years. Rather, it was far more soft and held the sort of feeling one would get when they find themselves in some form of heart-warming situation. "Leonardo." He whispered, smiling down to the human below. He moved a hand to brush his fingers against the artist's cheek, sighing gently. "Thank you." The Angel of Death whispered, smiling a bit more widely than he previously had been that evening. A rush of realization ran through him. Leonardo felt the same. Leonardo was his, and his alone.

"Does this mean I can stay in here for the rest of the night, then? I would prefer your company over that of my robes." Ezio teased ever so gently, earning a short, shy laugh from the other. "Of course, Ezio. Do whatever you will." Leonardo spoke, running a hand along the other's back, leaning up to steal his lips once more.

For once, the Angel didn't mind someone taking something of his.

Leonardo could hold onto his heart for as long as he so pleased.


End file.
